Chapter 2:
Three years later.
The morning air was crisp, tinged with the scent of dew-covered grass and the faint chirping of wild Pidgey in the trees. Somewhere on the edge of Professor Oak's large property, beneath the soft golden hue of dawn, amongst the group of fighting-type pokemon, a lone figure moved in rhythm with the earth, pushing, lifting, and grinding through another round of intense training.
Cyrus exhaled through his nose as he completed another set of push-ups, sweat clinging to the lean muscle of his back and arms. His now shoulder-length black hair was tied in a loose ponytail, strands sticking to his forehead. A short, dark beard traced his jawline—a new addition in the past year that somehow made him look both older and calmer.
Three years had passed since he'd first woken up under that tree. Time had tempered his body and sharpened his mind. The kid who had stumbled into the Pokémon world in disbelief was long gone. In his place stood someone stronger, someone more grounded… and someone ready.
Cyrus sat up, letting the early sunlight warm his back as he caught his breath. His dark eyes scanned the open clearing. A small Pokémon was mimicking his motions, a bag of rocks strapped to its back.
A soft grin tugged at Cyrus's lips.
"Good form, Aron," he said, voice steady and low. "You've gotten much stronger now, buddy."
The little Steel-type grunted in response, its silver body glinting slightly as it pushed itself harder. It wasn't the strongest Pokémon—not yet—but its determination never wavered. Cyrus watched his partner with quiet pride.
Partner.
The word still meant something special.
His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the day it all began, two years ago.
Flashback – Two Years Ago
Cyrus had just finished another long day of observing and helping to take care of the pokemon on Professor Oak's ranch. In the past year, he'd learned a lot from Professor Oak, how to observe Pokémon, how to read their needs, how to care for them properly.
It had become more than just a routine. It had become his life.
That day, Oak told him to wait in the common area after work, saying he had something for him.
What Cyrus didn't expect was a black and white egg sitting in an incubator on the coffee table.
"It came from a friend of mine in the Hoenn region," Oak said with a smile, gently picking up the egg from its cradle and handing it to him. "They didn't say what species it was, but that just makes it more exciting, doesn't it?"
Cyrus stared down at the egg in silence. It was heavier than expected. Solid. Real.
"…This is mine?" he asked quietly.
"You've earned it. You've worked harder in this lab than most interns twice your age. You've taken everything seriously. I think you're ready for a partner, even if you're not setting off just yet."
He nodded slowly, trying to keep his expression neutral. But inside… something ignited. A heat in his chest that wouldn't go away.
That night, he didn't sleep. Just watched the egg on his bedside table, heart pounding, eyes wide with a hundred childhood dreams.
And then, after months of care, it happened.
Not with a crack, but with a glow. Brilliant, white, radiant light filled the room like a small sun. The egg shimmered, morphed, until the glow faded… and a small Pokémon sat blinking in his lap.
Round, wide blue eyes. A steel-covered body. Four stubby legs. A blunt spike along its back.
An Aron.
Cyrus exhaled softly, a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. A quiet smile spread across his face, peaceful, honest. The kind of smile that meant something.
"I'm Cyrus," he said, reaching out a hand. "What do you say? Wanna be partners?"
The tiny Pokémon's eyes lit up. With a joyful grunt, it nudged his hand with its head, and that was it.
The beginning of something unbreakable.
Present Day
Since that moment, training had never stopped.
Cyrus watched Aron now, working on weighted sprints with rocks being dragged behind him—a method he'd carefully increased over months. He didn't just want Aron to be strong, he wanted to train him to be better in every way possible, whether that be endurance, speed or strength.
There were stories, after all, old theories about Pokémon adapting through stress, exposure, experience, overcoming weaknesses that shouldn't be possible. If type weaknesses came from instinctive disadvantages… then maybe, just maybe, that instinct could be re-trained.
They were still a long way from that goal, but Aron never gave up. Neither did he.
Cyrus stood, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel. The wind blew softly through the trees. In the distance, he could see Pallet Town, calm and still as ever. He'd grown to love this place.
And he'd met people. Important ones.
He had met Delia Ketchum a few times when she came over with her son to meet with the Professor, and she often offered him food and warm conversation; her kindness reminded him of someone he once knew. And of course, Ash. The boy had always been excited to see Cyrus, asking endless questions about Pokémon and dreaming of the day he'd start his own journey. Along with Ash, there was also Gary close by to annoy him with cocky remarks and light insults. Though he was arrogant, seeing Cyrus working hard over the past few years made Gary respect Cyrus, sometimes seeing him in the light of an older brother. Meeting these familiar faces, and Ash especially, made Cyrus truly accept that he really was in the world he once thought fictional.
That day was almost here.
"Ash turns ten in a few days," Cyrus murmured to himself. "Which means everything's about to begin."
He had figured out the timeline a while ago. Kanto's story hadn't officially started yet, but it would. Soon, the world would shift into motion.
And he'd already chosen his own path forward.
A Few Days Later
The sun had barely begun to rise when Cyrus stood outside Professor Oak's lab, his black coat billowing softly in the breeze along with his hair, neatly tied up in a half-up, half-down bun. The white shirt beneath it fluttered at the hem, brushing against his fitted black pants. His boots, sleek and stylish, the black colour going with the rest of his outfit while also being comfortable and well-suited for a long journey. Silver rings caught the light, and a small cross pendant rested just below his collarbone.
He felt the weight of the moment in his chest.
Professor Oak stepped outside, coffee in hand. He looked both proud and nostalgic.
"So… this is it, then?"
Cyrus gave a small nod. "It's time."
"You know," Oak said, "Ash and Gary are both getting their starters later this morning. You sure you don't want to stick around and see them off? I'm sure they'd like that."
Cyrus looked toward the horizon, eyes thoughtful.
"I'll see them again. The road has its own way of crossing paths."
Oak smiled. "Fair enough. Take care of yourself, young man. I'm sure you'll be an excellent trainer."
"I will, and thank you for all you've done for me, Professor."
With one last bow of gratitude, Cyrus turned and began his walk into the unknown.
Though Cyrus knew he could reach Viridean City well before the sun set, he chose to set up camp for lunch and to do some more training.
He chose a clearing surrounded by trees; it was peaceful and smelled of pine and clean air. A small lake shimmered nearby, reflecting the moonlight. He moved like someone who had done this a hundred times, pitching his tent, gathering firewood, preparing food.
He knelt by the firepit, cooking a pan of wild root vegetables and Oran berries for himself and a special blend of minerals and berries for Aron.
The two of them trained until dusk, working on resistance exercises near the lake, where Aron slowly stood in the water as Cyrus tossed mild electrical pulses and fire from a training device he'd crafted himself. It wasn't dangerous, not yet, but it was the first step in building tolerance.
"Little by little," Cyrus muttered, watching his partner brace against the heat of the fire. "Brick by brick."
Later, as they sat side by side watching as the Sun slowly set behind the far mountains.
And then…
A shimmer.
Cyrus's breath caught as a majestic golden shape flew silently overhead, glowing faintly in the orange sky. Rainbow feathers shimmered in its wake, Ho-Oh, soaring above like a dream.
Then something detached from the legendary Pokémon, an arc of radiant colour that floated down like a slow-motion drop of water.
Cyrus held out his hand instinctively, and the Rainbow Wing touched his palm.
It felt warm.
He stared at it for a long while, his chest rising slowly.
"…I guess this means something," he said quietly.
Aron tilted its head up at him, eyes curious. Cyrus simply smiled and lay back on the cool earth, one arm behind his head, the Rainbow Wing resting on his chest.
As the Sun finally disappeared, the stars above glittered like a thousand possibilities.
"I don't know what's coming," he whispered, "but I think we're ready."
Aron curled up beside him, and the fire crackled softly as sleep slowly took them both.